


Wish I knew you

by Lualie



Series: Every silver lining [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Grumpy Old Men, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not THAT old. Says Edward, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lualie/pseuds/Lualie
Summary: Edward receives an unexpected invitation, and gets carried away with a plan. Jon doubts there’s anything good in it. Fortunately, Edward is very convincing.





	1. When I was young

**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll are lucky I'm an incredibly sappy person.
> 
> My plan at the beginning of this was to dump all three chapters at once but you know what, you guys have this.

“Great news, Jonathan!”

The door was burst open as Edward waltzed into the room. Jon had been reading his latest test results, trying to pinpoint the best counterpart to a particularly unpleasant side effect his latest experiments seemed to produce on some patients. An empty vial rolled down his desk, and almost hit the ground, before being caught mid-flight by a very undisturbed Jon, who had not deigned to show an ounce of interest in his partner’s boastful entrance.

“It’s too warm and you’ve decided to switch back to your spandex?”

“Don’t be absurd.” He then paused, muttering. “The spandex is the right outfit for the right occasion. No no-” he moved toward the desk, which was pretty messy, by all means, about to sit on top of whatever was there.

Jon finally spared him a threatening glare, making Edward do a great show of closing the open books, and pile away the stray sheets into their unused binders, and one silly folder with a few spooky marks scribbled on it, and THEN sat on top of the now cleared spot. “-It so happens that I have received a particularly unexpected invitation in one of my private inboxes this morning. I though you might find some humor in it.”

The Riddler waved a printed piece of paper in front of him. Jon did not look at it, but stared up at the other man’s face, leaning back into his chair. His long fingers braided themselves meticulously under his chin.

“Is it relevant to my interests for you to disturb my work?”

“Of course it is: I am an interest of yours,” he added cockily, then winked. The stoical man remained unimpressed, but did not object. Edward then waved the message again, calling for his attention. 

Reluctantly, the former-yet-still-informally-practicing psychiatrist took the sheet and pushed his reading glasses with as much skepticism as he could muster in a single gesture. Edward rolled his eyes, motioning at him to just get on with it.

_‘The Greenwoods Institute is cordially inviting you to the 30th anniversary Reunion of the class of 19XX-’_

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed gravely as he read the entire mail, than looked up at the expectant expression on his partner’s face, than back to go over the entire mail a second time.

“Did you stole someone’s identity and somehow managed to get invited to a graduates’ reunion?” he flipped the page to inspect the other side, which was blank. Silly Jon.

“Oh oh no, that would have been too simple. You and I both know my personal feelings regarding Academia.” He sneered slightly at the thought. “Nonetheless, I required some kind of reference to get where I needed to be when I first strolled into Gotham. So I made some arrangements prior to that.”

“So you technically graduated a school you’ve never been to?”

“I _successfull_ graduated a school, with the highest recommendations. An establishment with a good reputation and a very flawed database. And security. And _staff_ ,” he huffed in contempt at the offending memory. “The fact that the old Director had to keep his lips tightly shut about the whereabouts of my admission, least he _exposed himself to the very damaging nature of the shocking revelations encompassed in my excruciatingly detailed folder of personal data-_ ” he paused in his elaborate tirade, offering a particularly proud smirk with a flourish. “-is only a bonus.”

Jonathan stared soberly at the genius seated on his desk, before a wry grin slowly crawled onto his thin lips. He looked at the mail for a third time, now with the intended irony Edward had boasted about when he first came into the room.

“Oh come now, Jonathan. I didn’t stroll here beckoning your _‘oh so precious attention’_ just to get your silent snark!” 

“It is pretty irritating to know a preschooler managed to download himself a high school certificate and terrorize the presiding authority.”

“Jealous, perhaps? Oh, and I wasn’t that young. or else that makes you a living artifact!”

“I’d like to point out that time has no bearings on fear.”

“Well I think you might want to check in on your lovely cracking joints first. Also, the 1600s called, and they want their shoes back in the shortest delay.”

The doctor actually chuckled darkly at his indignation. “You must had been the original inspiration for the old ‘someone could hack onto your computer’ ads.” He was clearly enjoying their banters here, which pleased Edward quite a bit.

“Well…” Edward tried to remain as factual about it as possible. “Of course, historically there has been much, MUCH more significant cases back in the days, and anyone could easily read about this really but-” he trailed off, looking away with an irrepressible smile. 

“I presume you’ve done similarly with a hypothetical college degree of some kind?”

“Oh. No. Well-… That’s another story, which I am pretty sure I told you before,” He stated accusingly.

The wiry man observed him quietly. There was something warmer in his stare, Edward would look into it if he had the time to seize the moment, before it flickered away. He seemed… nostalgic, almost.

“So,” Jon drawled, deliberate spider he was. “Any hypothesis as to why they’ve invited you now and not at the reunions previous to this one?”

“I though of that, evidently. It is most likely the Director had enough conscience to go over the list and skip my name before sending the invitations. More so, his current records seem to indicate he’s been hospitalized a few times so, it is very possible he was not aware that someone would mishandle the guest list while he was away.”

“Possible,” Jonathan commented, his thumb and index were brushing his jaw reflectively.

“….. What are you thinking about?” Edward asked with cautious curiosity. 

The older man exhaled calmly, and seemed to change the direction of his thoughts entirely. “You know in old folklore, it was particularly rude to not invite the resident spirits to join the town events. Nobody expects them to show up, but to-”

“Jon, I know you’re not _just_ referring to Sleeping Beauty, but please tell me this is not just because we ended up watching the spinoff movie two weeks ago, since we could not agree to watch anything better.”

“………….. Nobody,” he repeated slowly, persistent. “Expects them to show up. But to leave them -out- of an event?” his hands went back to fold together over his middle. His eyes were staggering. “That is, a whole other level of insult, my darling,” he eerily cooed. Obviously pleased with the trail of thoughts he was entertaining.

Edward took note of his own fevered heartbeats, and inhale sharply. “So! Does that mean I can count on you to join me?”

That knocked out Jonathan’s spell in an instant. “What?”

Edward felt almost sorry. (but not really) The man looked almost owlish with his glasses. “Wait! What was I thinking. I should do this the proper way.”

The redhead hopped off the desk, and collected himself for greater effect, and-….. smiled.

It was a really sweet smile, yet Jonathan had not moved an inch, and instead stared at his partner blankly.

How could a grown, seasoned villain like Edward, proud, exuberant, self-confident, unbeatable in his domain, seeker of all mysteries, -including Jon-…… looked almost flustered, as his breath hung onto an embarrassed smile.

He managed to catch up some of his usual bravado and asked with great eloquence. “Jonathan Crane-”

“Edward-”

“-will you, do me the pleasure to accompany me to the belated prom I’ve never had?”

It showed he was very proud about this grand setting. That for sure. It wasn’t as if they’ve never went out together. They did. Rather often to Jonathan’s tastes, but they did.

But the older man remained frozen in a deadly stance for much longer than his occasional surprises would sometimes occasioned. And what seemed like an achingly sweet plan in Edward’s mind crumbled slightly at the lack of reaction from his second-favorite rogue.

“Jonathan?”

It took him, much longer than Edward’s nerves should had been able to wait for. But Jon breathed again, blood flowing back up the brilliant doctor’s face. Frowning considerably as a hollow, disbelieving laugh escaped him.

It really wasn’t a pretty laugh, either. And it irked Edward spectacularly.

“Jon, I was legitimately looking forward to asking you this,” he pointed impatiently. 

“Don’t, ah. Don’t take this the wrong way, Edward. I just didn’t think I’d be asked to _‘prom’_ a second time around. I’m not, particularly fond of my reminiscing memories of the prime event.”

“……… Oh.”

“Ever eloquent, as always.” 

Edward had somehow moved and dragged a chair next to him. Jonathan watched warily as he looked at his partner, who was quietly assessing if it was alright for him to reach out. After a moment, Jon gave a tired nod, and focused on the familiar hand pressed on his forearm.

He seemed rather irritated- or embarrassed- at his momentary lapse. Almost treating the silence as a necessary evil: eager to move onto another topic and unsure how much of himself he was -or had- revealed in the last minutes .

For now, he looked at nothing in particular, and found some comfort in that.

“Will you at least let me plead my case?” Edward asked after a while, his thumb tracing the soft flesh of his forearm.

“The more adamant you are about something, the more incline I am to argue and disagree,” he warned, but not dismissing his idea just yet.

“I know, I know. As it is not… _always_ uncalled-for. I know you don’t talk, nor _want_ to talk about… your youth in general. And in light of this, I’ll make you a better offer.” His enticing grin was back once more, his voice smoothing in a conspiratorial way. “You come with me, as my _roguish_ partner-” Jon turned a deadly glare, calling him out on his blatant sugar-coating. “- and we, as the true outstanding individuals we are, and were _always_ meant to me, outshine anyone who ever had the ineptitude to think otherwise.”

Jon scrutinized him in great detail, hypothesizing on every possible flaws. “….. Are you ready to waste your time on this, solely because you accidentally clicked the wrong shipping options for your latest order, and you find yourself with too much time on your hands?”

“AH. Of course not! I don’t make the same mistake twice!”

Jon gave him a look, toward which Edward huffed in a dismissive way.

He was dead right, and he’d be damned if he showed Jon how it had sent a cold shiver of shame down the Riddler’s spine. 

“You do know these people are mostly just middle-aged citizens with mundane jobs, ordinary preoccupations and fears? This would be no better than a placebo-experience to patch-up whichever trauma and missed opportunity we’ve been through.”

“And these citizens, several states and stones away, are painfully unaware of what _dark spirits_ they have been denied to meet thus far~”

Jon would had argued further, but his lips snapped shut. The glare was now accusing, but subtly tinted with…. approval. Edward looked at him expectantly, delighted, victorious.

“Of course. I should had known you’d appeal to my interests.”

“What can I say? Sometimes your interests coincide with mine.”

“Sometimes.” 

There it was again. That look. That oh so personal warmth Jon had so rarely allowed himself to show to the world, or even to Edward up until much later after their initial rivalry. ‘Initial’ Rivalry. It was still there, as both man were drawn to win the upper hand of a situation through wits and well-timed theatrics. Edward was simply… more _implicitly_ showy about the extent of his power and knowledge.

That intelligent gaze, the one Edward had discovered and treasured after years of knowing the man, had never failed to fascinate him more than even he liked to admit.

He suppressed a much-too-honest grin, and lowered his eyes to where his hand was resting on top of Jon’s sinewy forearm.

The tips of Jonathan’s long fingers brushed softly through his hair, where silvery strands as begun to show amid the vibrant ginger. They stroke the outer-shell of his ear delicately.

“And what if this whole ridiculous affair was only a way for Batman or our fellow rogues to lure us out of Gotham for a few days?” he asked softly.

“… Possible,” he admitted just as softly. “It occurred to me as well. I’ve already prepared a few safety measures in cases of impromptu escapes in the past. Additional protections and a thorough scan of my network would be mandatory to get a better understanding of the current _status quo_ as well. Not that I am not perfectly aware of everything already…” he trailed off. 

Jonathan removed his glasses and laid them casually on the desk before him. His fingers combing deeper into Edward’s hair as he leaned toward him. The arm under Edward’s palm moved, their hands joining somewhere along the way.

“I’ll help you secure the details, then,” Jonathan finally offered. The sober words were only an excuse to retain some of his resilient reserve. They could have fooled Edward, if the context wasn’t speaking a much tender language.

Their eyes met, and Edward found no logical reason not to cross the distance between them.


	2. We can share my mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be... more of an introspective chapter? I'm using the excuse of them travelling to show some of their perspective of one another. 
> 
> Although the truth is that I'm a very self-indulgent person.

There was a song playing on the radio.

It was a calm trip so far. Edward had fallen asleep to catch up with the long hours spent working on his new security measures. The man was incline to work for days and then collapse once his work was done. Jon suspected his zealousness was meant to allow them more time away. Not that Jon had agreed to this, but in a different setting….. perhaps.

As he was well-known to do, his partner tended to chat endless through car rides. He would begin by assessing how much you knew about any remote subject and proceed to fill you in on everything else. The man had genuine interests in every topic that could prove useful to any degree or be twisted into an entertaining concept for future reference. Hence, he had quite a lot to share, and ponder over.

Joining him in a conversation was a gymnastic in itself, like jumping ropes. And Jonathan had found that the exercise could be as rewarding as it was a challenge. You had to jump at the right time, there were tricks you could do with the rope and take the control of it, back and forth…

Nonetheless, there was that spark in the shorter rogue’s eyes when he found someone he could level with, and that was quite a motivation in itself.

Most of the time, Edward didn’t need an ear to bounce off his ideas, but his most prolific plans had surged from sharing an active conversation with someone he valued. ‘Valued’ being the key word. It did wonders to his incessant creativity, to Gotham’s greatest dismay.

While Jon did not approve of everything Edward came up with, he was always eager to read more into the other rogue’s extensive psyche. -That is, except when Edward was the one driving. The Riddler was an incredible multitasker, but Jon was not getting any fun out of someone else’s reckless driving.

Their minds could be miles away, ahead of roads or matters of the mind, where they were scheming plans of their own. But sometimes, Edward’s hand would seek his between the seats, and Jon would find an unexpected warmth in the quiet gesture.

The former psychiatrist didn’t particularly like to have his work interrupted, but he figured he could tolerate vacations where there could be more moments like these.

As for now, there was a soft folk song playing, speaking of bitter water and earnest affection. The volume was pretty low, but he could hear the banjo just fine. It was somewhat soothing, with the slightest hints of dawn breaking in the distance.

The car was dark with hues of blue, since they had left Gotham in the middle of the night. The redhead next to him curled slightly in his sleep. Jonathan didn’t need to look to know he had probably pulled out some kind of ridiculous neck cushion from his baggage.

… They had an argument over the damn thing once, as Edward stubbornly insisting that Jon should use it had them almost crashing into a ditch. The fight that ensued still rung in his ears, but it gave them an occasion to sort out a few other things. Jonathan knew it could have easily ended with one of them walking to the nearest city. Or perhaps dead in said ditch. Over a pointless neck cushion.

By all means, the textbooks and studies could explain how the smallest things tended to pile up and cause the most ire in a long-term relationship, but it was entirely something else to be in the situation where both parties had bad habits of their own, and were reluctant to change them for anyone else’s sake. But they had adjusted. Sort of.

… Admittedly, the cushion did make his sleep significantly more tolerable, though he hated to resort to it still. Not great by any means, but he didn’t wake up to a splitting headache afterward.

As the first rays of sunlight began to peek, Jon parked the car on the side of the empty road, and cut the ignition.

They were still at least an hour away from their motel, and the sun would probably wake his partner.

The tall man leaned into his own seat and stretched his spindly arm over to the brilliant genius next to him, running the back of his index from the soft hair at back of the sleeping man’s neck, down to the length of his vulnerable spine. Edward swallowed a breath loudly and shivered, holding his sides protectively under his fancy purple blanket, dotted with green question marks.

Jon was tempted to stir him awake with more of these soft little torments, but instead pulled at the cover slowly, letting it fall over his exposed back.

His lover made an indistinct sound, his head burying further into the blanket, and the nonsense it translated into made the older man feel warm all over again.

As these moments grew ever more pristine into his memory, Jonathan Crane reflected how fortunate he had been, despite everything telling him otherwise, to allow into his life any of these foolishnesses, and everything else they brought in-between. 

* * * * * * * *

They arrived some time after dawn. The sun had barely risen that its rays stabbed Edward awake. Which was not pleasant. At all, thank you Jon. And only happened because it shone directly into his side of the car, and his partner was convincingly too focused on the road to actually do anything about it. Or maybe it was solely because he knew it would annoy him personally. Which it did! But alas…

Years of waking up in odd places, and there were still worse situations than waking up in a car, but it didn’t erase the fact that it was not pleasant to rouse to a stiff neck and fuzzy limbs.

They arrived at their destination -a decent motel room, unlisted, only a short drive away from their target goal- and did a quick work to unload the necessities so they could both crash for a few hours. 

He planned to sleep the remainder of the day until their event in the evening, or at least that _was_ his plan.

Of course, sleep did not actually come as quickly to the Riddler as it had for Jon, who had somehow dropped cold as soon as his head laid on a flat surface. It was a miracle at all he had managed to change- …. well. At least he took his shirt off. The man couldn’t be bothered.

… Edward quietly admired the numerous marks on Jonathan’s back. The faintest notches time and pain had left on his skin. He knew how each of them felt under the pads of his fingers, like a tactile map he could reconstruct by heart… 

Their schedules didn’t allow them to fall into bed as often as he would ideally like. Or, it tended to be disturbed between long periods of simultaneous freedom or incarceration. Or frantic scheming, or mismatched agendas… 

When they played their cards right, however, they tended to stay off the radar of the Bat long enough for them to follow a routine they both agreed on, and to the Bat’s misfortune, it worked wonders on their productivity.

Edward would sometimes simply walk into his study to find Jon asleep in his armchair, his glasses slowly falling off his nose, usually half-bent over a book he had barely managed to close in time, held against his middle protectively even as he slept.

The mystery expert had to admit, he looked very much like an old bird who fell precariously asleep on his perch. It was almost endearing, if it didn’t make him think of how much his neck would hurt when the man would wake. Or how sad it was, seeing as he knew the only solace Jonathan had while growing up, were his books.

But right now, the half-clothed beanpole next to him was sound asleep, hair tousled around him like a wiry halo of dark thoughts and ideas. Bits of grey and white peppering the strands. They had been there when they met, at least a decade ago, but Edward suspected the weapon of choice of the terrifying Doctor Crane, the infamous fear toxin, had more neurological side-effects in a long-term exposure than a resistance to fear.

Exhibit A: waking up in a start, as if he was being chased by a hoard of demons. Muttering nonsense about mysterious houses and their hosts, sometimes. Exhibit B: Significant increases of stress that only HE had managed to tone down over the years. Exhibit C:—

A noise came from the man next to him. For an irrational moment, Edward wondered if he had been ‘thinking out loud’ again, as Jonathan would say. It had happened once, or twice, or a dozen. It wouldn't usually wake his partner. Not like HIS trashing sometimes did-

Jonathan groaned and rolled, his arms creeping and wrapping around his torso in an almost skeletal embrace, his head landing softly over his chest.

“…..You’re not asleep, you pseudo night bird,” Edward whispered accusingly. “You never hug me when you are.” 

Edward heard the deep chuckling sound as it shook through his thorax. He felt the smallest touch of his lips through the layer of his shirt. They were dried and thin, as Edward knew very well. They chapped easily in winter, or tended to split just as much when a blow would hit his face. Edward had tried many times, had given him balms and skin care of several kind, to no avail. The man either didn’t care or plainly forgot he even owned them.

His money was on the ‘didn’t care’ part, which was infuriating but also his loss, at the end of the day. Or when he did bother at all, Edward suspected Jon would rather take his personal products, just to spite him.

… Well. Now he was stuck with a giant snake over his chest, and a vicious cycle of rambling thoughts.

Oh no, he was not complaining. Just very displeased at his current lack of sleep, meaning they might not have one of those idyllic moments where they both woke up and this insufferable world didn’t exist for a while. A crying shame.

Edward tentatively combed through the hair at the nape of his neck, and Jonathan sighed deeply, which made him smile despite of it all.

Well. If he was going to stay awake, and since he was reluctant to displace the sleeping vulture on top of him, he might as well check his phone until slumber summoned him again.

* * * * * * * *

5 minutes.

Jon had been pacing the room with his hand behind his back. Every now and then, his eyes would catch his reflection in a small, slightly tarnished mirror hung at the level of his nose, and his hands would inexorably tug at his dark red tie in a futile attempt to make it look better. 

As the minutes passed, he grew annoyed at his own apprehension and went to knock on the bathroom door. A calloused knuckle hitting on the cheap door with three distinct raps. 

“I’d like to point out that your coquetry has us running late on schedule.” 

His voice came slightly muffled from the other side, but Jon could hear the roundabout disregard the other man seemed to take in the information with.

“Nobody of importance arrives at any events exactly on time, Jonathan.” A short pause, a satisfied hum. “Besides,” he added, opening the door as he leaned against its frame. His hair styled with practice, crowning a set of dangerous emeralds in a subtle sky of freckled stars. “What is the point of crashing a party if there is no efficient crashing to do?” He laughed at the very absurdity of it, disappearing again to resume his work with apparent anticipation. “We will arrive at the right time and leave a lasting impression.”

“Alright, Elizabeth Taylor. It’s your funeral after all.” Edward graced him with an audible huff, which pulled at the older man’s lips a little.

Edward had left the door opened this time, and Jon leaned as his partner did the moment before, observing him quietly. The freckles scattered beautifully over his shoulders and limbs, as far as to dot the back of his hands and downward. The occasional scars connecting the marks in a curious array of constellations, full of stories and secrets.

10 minutes late, and Edward was still standing in his bright green undergarments. Jon recalled a few instances of hazardous fires and burnt fabrics when the man had first tried to home-print the question marks on them.

“See anything you agree with?” Jon looked up at his partner and found him glancing back smugly, returning to work without waiting for an answer he already knew.

“You look fine, Eddie,” he stated coolly, bored by his wait and his partner’s vanity. 

“Well _you_ can look _Fine_ , Jonathan,” Edward replied with condescension, although it left him in favor of a slow appraising look at the tall man. “Very Fine. But I aim to be dazzling, no less.”

“As if you aren’t always.”

The redhead huffed, waving at the psychiatrist to leave him to his work. Jonathan turned back to the room with a wicked grin of his own, knowing the genius mastermind would be blushing furiously in the other room.

20 minutes.

Edward finally stepped out of the bathroom, adorning a blood red suit. He stood there a moment, adjusting his cuffs with the panache of someone who knew they were to be admired. 

It wasn’t the first time Jon saw him wearing a different color than his trademark lime green, and the cool-headed man gave him a patient look. “Not quite what I was expecting you to wear, admittedly.”

“Oh shush, you. I’m keeping the sequin suit for my next ploy.” He went to fetch a few additional accessories laying on the nightstand, putting them on methodically. Two golden rings on his right hand, forming the shape of a question mark together. A hand-crafted neon green and purple digital wristwatch on his left side. 

Jon saw him almost hesitating, but nonetheless reached for a small pair of gold and green earrings, matching his cufflinks. By the time he had them on, the self-proclaimed master of fear had walked behind his partner, wrapping his long fingers around his shoulders and neck as he whispered to his ear.

“You are wearing the spandex underneath, aren’t you?” he teased, earning a laugh from Edward.

“Oh, why must you torment me, mister ‘I could be an undertaker, but I lack the hearse so I’ll go steal one. Be right back’,” the redhead mocked over his shoulder.

Jon failed to comment on that, which gave the shorter man time to turn and face his disgruntled grimace. His hands wrapped themselves with possessive pride over his middle.

The tall man’s mood mellowed into pensive contemplation, running the knuckle of his index under the side of his jaw, tipping his partner’s head slightly. Edward’s smile alone could outshine a limelight.

“You look like the Devil itself,” Jon said at last. He would deny how even he could hear the faintest traces of veneration in his voice as the words fell from him.

Edward had not missed them either, and chuckled darkly as one of his hand moved to rest over his chest, quite appreciating the moment. “Well, Death has never looked better than you do, my dear.”

Jon felt that familiar warmth again, where the hand on his torso was tracing the outline of his matching tie. Jon pealed the hand off and brought it to his lips, where he pressed all the unspoken words he would not utter awake, his haunting eyes never leaving the mesmerized green stare below him.

The former psychiatrist could barely hear him breathe at all.

“Although,” Jon said, breaking the moment. Lowering his freckled hand over his angular collarbone. “this implies that you’ve met a personification of Death before, which is something I reckon you don’t believe in.”

Edward frowned deeply. He was coming back to reality with a profusion of indignant blinks. “Well excuse me, I was not aware that you’ve met an entity claiming to be the Devil.”

“That’s.... hmm,” Jon said slowly, reluctantly recalling his religious education. “Nevermind. Though, maybe I should ask Banshee if there is actually something like that on her side of things.”

Edward was now shaking his head. “Hold on, even if she could, that’s not even the same system, hypothetically!”

“Hypothetically. Also. Edward?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Would you care to take a look at this?” he asked with irony, tapping a nail over Edward’s ‘miracle of technology’ wristwatch.

Edward froze and huffed in annoyance, attempting to cover his momentary embarrassment with his remaining dignity. 

Jon gave a wicked smirk, and bent down slightly to take a hold of his partner’s jet black tie. He made a show of fixing it, only much tighter than it would normally need to be.

“Don’t you think we’ve _killed_ enough time?” Jon cooed, merciless.

Edward swallowed loudly under the knot, his embarrassment renewed with a sheepish laugh.

“Ah, yes.” The riddle mastermind swatted his hands away, his voice slightly strangled, which he fixed right away. “We ought to go now, are you ready?”

“Let me think about it.” Jonathan crossed his spindly arms, looking around casually just to spite him.

Edward threw his hands dramatically, and headed for the door. “Well take your time, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you guys don't know is that Ed still waits for Jon to come down and he opens the door on the passenger side for him, because he's still into this ridiculous idea of a let-me-have-this-indulgent-not-prom-thing-Jon-and-also-I'm-driving-cause-that's-the-least-I-can-do-to-say-thanks-without-saying-it.
> 
> Impossible fools.

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapters are mostly patchy for now but, they're on their way I promise. Just ask your sister Anne every 10 minutes if she sees any updates in the distance.
> 
> I hope this part made you feel as warm as it did for me when I wrote it.
> 
> ... and if that's the case, the next part is going to be just as bad.


End file.
